


O Theodosia

by Katercom



Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, M/M, because this is the 18th century and aaron burr is a fucking mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 11:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5046982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katercom/pseuds/Katercom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theodosia leaves and Aaron Burr is alone again. Of course it has to be Hamilton who finds him sitting in a tavern in the ass-end of New York City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O Theodosia

**Author's Note:**

> Set shortly after 'Wait for it', a few weeks or so after the wedding.

It rarely surprised Aaron anymore that Hamilton only ever seemed to appear when he could least afford it. Hamilton, who spent his time leading revolutions and following Washington around and talking entirely too much, seemed to have a sixth sense for knowing where he would be when and why. It was a habit he didn’t much care for.

He was, however, surprised when Hamilton stepped into the tavern, surrounded by loud laughter and the distinctive French accent of the Marquis, already slurred by alcohol.

Aaron had chosen a tavern less frequented by soldiers and patriots but he hadn’t thought that Hamilton, still fresh into his honeymoon, would visit a tavern. But with Washington’s temporary headquarters just a day’s ride north of New York City, in the town of New Windsor, he probably should have expected Laurens and Lafayette to ride down and drag Alexander along.

He turned his back to the entrance door and lowered his head. The whiskey in the glass in his hand shimmered invitingly in the dying candlelight and he gulped it down. The warmth of the alcohol filled his stomach. Still, he was cold.

Theodosia hadn’t written for a few weeks now. Not since her husband…not since his letters had arrived from Georgia, filled with British affection and stained with dark blood. ‘My dearest, Theodosia, I regret to inform you that Death’s cold hands are reaching out so me’, he had written in shaky writing and it had been enough to tear her away from him and back to her family. She might have stayed if Aaron had offered her more than a kiss against her fragile fingers, if he had only told her earlier how much she mattered. He should have asked her to marry him right there and then. He should not have waited so long.

Damned Alexander Hamilton had been right again.

Aaron’s grip around the glass grew tighter and he cast a glance to the table where Laurens and Lafayette and Hamilton had gathered and were clinking glasses, smiles on their faces.

How did Hamilton always manage to have the upper hand? Why did he always have the better luck? A man like Hamilton would have never let Theodosia leave. No. Theodosia would have never left a man like Alexander Hamilton.

Aaron pushed the empty glass away and breathed out in an exasperated sigh.

“Well, if that isn’t Burr over there”, Laurens said somewhat coolly, barely loud enough for Aaron to hear.

“Aaron Burr!”, Alexander Hamilton exclaimed. His light-footed steps neared and stopped behind him.

Aaron did not turn around. “Alexander”, he said. He knew how tired he sounded.

“Sir?”

Aaron rubbed his aching forehead and gestured wearily towards the empty seat next to him. “Sit down”, he muttered and he indicated to the bartender to bring them two more whiskeys, “Drink with me.” He was almost painfully aware of how Alexander’s bright eyes scanned his face, always looking for something.

“You should smile more, Burr”, Alexander said and it sounded like an accusation.

Aaron pushed one of the whiskeys towards him. “And you should come up with your own worldly wisdoms.”

Alexander hummed in amused agreement and clinked his glass gingerly against Aaron’s. “We did not have the opportunity to talk after the wedding”, he said and took a sip, always looking at him. “How is your paramour?”

Some of the whiskey slopped over as Aaron put down the glass a bit too violently, his knuckles white around it. “Don’t talk about her”, he said softly, always intent to protect her and himself and everything he stood for.

But Alexander, damned Alexander Hamilton, already looked at him with compassion in his intelligent eyes. “Burr – “

Aaron interrupted him with an exhausted shake of the head. “She left. That is all you need to know and all I will tell you about the matter.”

Alexander’s hand found his shoulder.  

“I don’t need your sympathy, Hamilton.” He found himself leaning into the touch nonetheless and he silently mused over whether he truly was so alone that he had to be comforted by the likes of Hamilton. The man who had only ever stood in his ways and stolen his opportunities. In the end he decided that it really did not matter. The hand on his shoulder was warm and he was cold. That was enough.

Alexander, God bless him, did not push further. “It’s raining outside”, he said, his thumb rubbing once over the dry fabric of Aaron’s overcoat. “How long have you been here?”

Aaron looked at him. It was true: Alexander’s hair was dripping wet, as was his clothing. “How late is it?”

“Around two.”

“Then I’ve been here entirely too long.”

Alexander chuckled. “Do you want to join us?”, he asked and he nodded back at the table on the other side of the tavern. Lafayette was downing shots but Laurens was watching Aaron from a distance, his eyes burning.

Aaron returned his gaze until Laurens turned away before he looked back at Hamilton. “I’m afraid I’m not good company tonight.”

Alexander smiled faintly. “That’s alright. It’s probably for the better. Laurens wanted us to tour through all the taverns of Northern New York City and you, good Sir, look like you need a bed, not more alcohol.” He emptied his glass and stood up. The weight of his hand was on Aaron’s shoulder for a moment longer and he whispered a soft “Drink up, friend”, and then he was gone.

Aaron did not turn around to watch him leave but out of the corners of his eyes he could see how Hamilton accompanied his friends out of the tavern, Lafayette clearly passed out around Laurens’ shoulder. He felt something like disappointment.

With a resigned sigh he buried his face in his hands.

He would have never thought that a person could feel this cold. He never thought it possible to miss someone as much as he missed Theodosia. She was the one thing he had clung to when the loneliness became crippling.

The bartender filled his glass again, as he had done the nights before, and Aaron mumbled a “Thank you” that got lost in the chatter of the tavern but he didn’t dare touch the drink. He felt sick to his stomach.

“Burr”, someone said and a hand touched his back.

Aaron lifted his heavy head. “Alexander?”, he asked sluggishly. “’thought you were gone.”

“Just had to bid John goodbye and make sure Lafayette was cared for.” Hamilton met his glance and smiled weakly. “John can handle himself. I’m not so sure about you. Get up. It’s time for you to go home.”

Home, Aaron thought and he wanted to laugh. Theodosia had taken his home with her. He had spent so much time at her home in New Jersey that the emptiness in his own home was stifling. He’d rather sleep on a dirty floor than to go back there. He wanted Theodosia back at his side. He wanted her smiles and her giggles and the warmth of her fragile hand in his. He wanted to marry her and take her away from war and bloodshed, he wanted to give her sons and daughters and more happiness than her husband ever gave her. But she wasn’t his, that much he knew now. She had never been his. He had warmed her bed in her husband’s absence, nothing more. Even in death, Jacques Marcus Prevost still managed to take precedence over him. “I never asked for help”, Aaron said and sat up straighter.

“Accepting help isn’t a weakness”, Alexander said.

Aaron sighed silently. He was right. Of course he was. As he stood up he felt the effect of the alcohol in his blood for the first time tonight.

Alexander grabbed his elbow and kept him upright. “You can sleep at my place. It’s not far from here.”

Aaron’s next words were more spiteful than he had intended them to be: “Am I to keep your bed warm as well, Hamilton?”

The grip around his arm disappeared and for just a second Aaron was sure that he had finally done it. Alexander would leave. Alexander would leave him alone again.

He did not want to be alone.

But Alexander did not leave. Instead he gripped Aaron’s shoulders and looked at him urgently. His eyes were filled with an age-old sadness. “You don’t have to drive me away. There are no secret intentions. Just tell me how to help you.”

Aaron took an unsteady step back. He could only stare at Alexander. They weren’t friends. He shouldn’t care: nobody else cared, maybe not even Theodosia. O Theodosia. His heavy tongue stumbled over the breaking words: “You cannot heal this hurt, Alexander. She is gone and she won’t be coming back.” He could barely keep down the other drunken confessions that waited so desperately to be spoken.

“I will call for a carriage.”

Aaron threw his hands in the air in resignation. “Do whatever you want, Hamilton.” He probably couldn’t even stop the man if he tried. He leaned heavily against the side of the counter and curled his fingers around the edge of the wood, trying to keep his thoughts far away from Theodosia.

Alexander handed him a wallet, thicker than it had ever been all the times Aaron had seen it. “Pay for the drinks. Wait here.” He had left the bar before Aaron could reply.

 

* * *

 

 

The carriage was a sad, small vehicle: open to all sides, despite the cold wind, and drawn by emaciated horses that snapped at Aaron when he walked past them. Alexander didn’t seem to notice the poor state of the carriage, but then again he probably was not used to having money and actually being able to afford anything more than the clothes on his back and the occasionally wine.

Alexander let him get on first before taking his own seat at his side. They were silent for the first minutes. The wheels of the carriage rumbled over the cobblestone-street. The shaking sobered Aaron’s mind a bit. The sky was dark above them.

Alexander glanced at him. “I was not aware how much you cared about the woman”, he said carefully.

“I keep my affairs rather private”, Aaron said. He felt calmer now that he was away from the pull of the alcohol and the suffocating air of the pub. “Theodosia took away the loneliness.”

Something in Alexander’s face changed. “I didn’t know you were lonely.”

Aaron actually managed to smile. “I thought you knew everything, Alexander.” For once, he was a step ahead. It didn’t feel as good as he had always imagined.

Alexander’s eyes were soft. “You are the one thing in life I will never understand.”

The carriage stopped abruptly and the horses neighed.

Alexander stepped off the carriage and looked back at him. “Are you coming?”

“I do not wish to impose”, Aaron said and inclined his head. “You did enough for me already tonight.”

Alexander, all big gestures and bright eyes and open smiles, pulled him towards the house anyway, one hand firmly on Aaron’s upper arm. “Betsey is visiting her family, she wouldn’t mind.  _I_ certainly don’t mind. You can sleep in the study or anywhere, really. The house is big enough for all of us.”

Aaron watched him open the door and something clicked in his mind. He wasn’t the only one who had been lonely.

And when Alexander turned around and smiled at him Aaron felt a little less cold than he had all day. “Thank you”, he said.

Alexander put an arm around him and pulled him into the entrance of the estate.

 

* * *

 

Alexander handed him a thin blanket, the letters E.S. embroidered in one of its corners, and sat down next to him on the couch. The only light came from the corridor. “I don’t think I’ve ever used this thing.”

Aaron leaned back into the pillows and looked at him with a feeling of strange amusement and even stranger affection. “What, in the two weeks you’ve lived here? You never sleep, Hamilton, everyone knows that”, he said. Closing his eyes was tempting but Alexander’s body vibrated with silent laughter and pressed warm against his.

“Betsey wanted to meet you”, Alexander said. He buttoned down his coat and laid it aside and loosened the cravat around his neck. He looked a lot more human without them, less like a force of nature. “After the wedding, I mean”, he continued, turning back to him. “She mentioned that Angelica isn’t very fond of you but she was very open to meet a friend of mine.”

“Since when am I a friend of yours?”

Alexander chuckled. “Since the first time I stepped foot on the mainland and some oaf came around the corner to lecture me about talking too much.”

Aaron mock-frowned. “That is not how it happened.”

Alexander looked at him with humor in his eyes. “You just tell yourself that, Mr Burr.” He brought one leg up on the couch and under his body so that they almost faced each other. His face turned serious. “Look. I’m sorry for what happened, Aaron. If there is anything I can do to help just ask.”

Aaron shrugged. “She was married”, he said. “I don’t know what I expected.”

Alexander frowned. “You loved her.”

There was sluggishness in his movement as Aaron nodded. His exhaustion was catching up to him. The days of not sleeping and not eating properly had taken their toll. “I did. I do.” Sweet Theodosia.

“And she loved you.”

“Maybe she did. Maybe she didn’t. I’m just tired. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Whatever you need”, Alexander said softly.

Aaron glanced at the discarded coat and back at Alexander and the pale skin disappearing under his collar, the artery softly pulsing at the side of his neck, barely noticeable in the dim lighting. He swallowed. “I am considering doing something very rash”, he said slowly.

Alexander smiled. “You, doing something rash? God help us a-“

His lips were as soft as Theodosia’s when Aaron kissed him. But the sound escaping from Alexander’s throat, confused and deep and terribly terribly weak, was different from any sound Theodosia had ever made. It made Aaron’s stomach flutter with something new. Just for a moment he could imagine that he felt Alexander kissing back, just as warm and open, but when he pulled away all he could see was the darkness of dilated pupils and the redness of Alexander’s cheeks.

“I apologize”, Aaron said. His voice had to press past the knot in his throat and came out quiet and pathetic. He sat back further and brought distance between them. He did not dare meet Alexander’s glance. Congratulations, Aaron thought sarcastically to himself, well done, Burr: if you ever had a chance of living up to anyone’s expectations it’s certainly gone now. “I think it would be best for me to leave.”

Alexander’s fingers wrapped around his wrist before he could stand up. “Don’t.” His skin was clammy to the touch.

Aaron turned back towards him, biting his tongue. Looking at Hamilton was like staring at the sun, like being suffocated by his greatness. Oh, Aaron Burr would be the first to admit that his morbid admiration for Alexander Hamilton was growing more particular with every year and every new revelation. He felt like a child again.

The darkness in Alexander’s eyes was watching him. “I cannot figure you out”, Alexander said. His voice was hoarse and filled with wonder. His hand slowly let go of Aaron’s wrist and settled against his cheek.

Aaron could have sworn that he felt his heart skip a few beats. His breaths were shaky. The warmth of Alexander’s skin on his brought out truths he hadn’t found his peace with yet. This was different than loving the wife of a British officer. “I don’t know what to do”, he whispered. “Oh God, Alexander, what do I do?”

Alexander moved closer and let their foreheads touch. His thumb brushed against Aaron’s nose. “Don’t talk. I’m here”, he said and somehow that was enough.

Aaron clenched his fist around Alexander’s collar and leaned in until their lips met in a testing-trying-nervous- _gentle_  kiss that made his chest ache.

Alexander made a small noise. He let his fingers ghost down Aaron’s side and rest against his hip and his lips, oh God, his  _lips_ , were open and inviting and he tasted like so much more: he tasted like alcohol and desperation and everything Theodosia hadn’t been. His weight pressed Aaron down into the pillows. His body was on Aaron’s and he was mouthing silent secrets against his mouth and his jaw and his throat.

Aaron felt himself choking down air. It felt like drowning.

Alexander pulled back, his face flushed. His fingertips followed the contour of Aaron’s jaw. “You don’t have to be alone”, he said, his breathing slowly evening out. “We keep meeting anyway – just stay. Keep your fellow orphan company.”

Aaron looked up at him with more emotions battling in his head than he could ever express. “I’m not good at making and keeping friends”, he admitted. He almost wanted to laugh. “I’m a busy man.”

Alexander sat back on his heels and for a moment he looked his age, still the young wide-eyed immigrant too curious for his own good. “Busy with what?”

“Lying in wait”, Aaron said and it felt like an elaborate inside-joke only he understood. “Waiting for the world to give me what I crave.” His body followed Alexander’s movement like a marionette following its strings and he reached out for his hands. Their fingers entangled.

Alexander smiled. “That is very much like you.”

“I suppose it is.”

Alexander pressed a lingering kiss against his forehead and looked down at their joined hands. “Just promise me you won’t disappear again. Not after this.”

Aaron closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the room and of Alexander. Paper and ink. “I won’t leave”, he said and he thought of Theodosia and then of Alexander and then of Theodosia again. The ice in his chest was melting. As long as Alexander looked at him the cold was gone and Aaron felt warm again. O Alexander, he thought and his forehead touched his shoulder. Maybe it was enough. Maybe it wasn’t. For tonight he could play pretend that the world was easy and that tomorrow wouldn’t bring more sorrow. Tomorrow was another day, far in the future. For now, Aaron was content with just putting his arms around Alexander and holding him close and feeling his breaths soft against his neck.

O Theodosia, he thought. I am sorry but I’m not waiting any longer.

**Author's Note:**

> #ignoring act 2 every happened #why am I shipping two of the whitest men in history


End file.
